The Risk Series 3: Acceptable Risk
by KSPretenderFan
Summary: How far will she go to protect the ones she loves? Part 3 of the Risk Series.
1. Chapter 1

**Acceptable Risk**

**Chapter 1:**

Wearing a sleeveless silvery-gray cocktail dress, strappy heels, with her hair in a perfectly styled French twist, Zoe looked sleek and stylish. Everything about her exuded confidence and evoked a sense of coolness, like ice.

She personified strength and determination, someone who wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty and work. One thing he admired about her was her brutal honesty. She may always look for the angle or try to maintain the upper hand, but she meant what she said, no one ever questioned her motives.

It was a rare occasion that both John and Zoe were working at the same time in the same venue. Zoe, working the crowd of blue bloods, John keeping an eye on some spoiled rich playboy whose number had come up. John frowned slightly as he pondered the various complications surrounding the development in his and Zoe's relationship or their "not grand romance" as she put it. The nature of their work kept them apart more than not, but they made an effort to work around their responsibilities.

John struggled to define their relationship. He couldn't really describe her as his girlfriend, good grief they were both too mature for that classification. His attraction to Zoe went beyond the physical beauty. Indeed, she was beautiful, and she knew it and no doubt used it to her advantage. But it was her strength and determination that had always held his attention. She was an intelligent woman and although appeared cold and calculating, he admired her tenacity in going for what she wanted. With Zoe, there were no pretences.

Lovers? That was probably the most accurate description but he felt it was far more than the physical. There was an undercurrent of something . . . . Although her acid tongue got in the way most of the time, it was the little things she did that fed that undercurrent. Little things like bringing him lunch even though she knew he rarely ate while he was working. A subtle arm rub would greet him as she would walk by, hand him whatever she brought with her, smile her little half smile, then walk off. Once he came home to his loft and found a box filled with various mementos he had accumulated, waiting for him on his door step. It had his name on it written in Zoe's distinctive handwriting and contained one of Leila's binkies and the super hero drawing Darren McGrady made for him with the quarter that served as John's retainer, among other things. Zoe somehow knew what these had meant to him.

They weren't married, although they did play the husband and wife gig a few months back. Carter was still ticked off at him and had ripped him a new one for not warning her. John mentally threw up his hands. Who knew Zoe would just blurt out; "I'm John's wife," to Carter and rush off at the most crucial time, leaving the explanations to him and made him feel like he was guilty of something.

He had to admit that he was keeping his relationship with Zoe a secret. Harold of course had his suspicions, but surprisingly didn't push to learn more.

There was an unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn't talk about the specifics of the work they did. As much as possible they kept it separate. In all honesty, John was surprised that Zoe never asked anything about how he and Harold knew what they knew, it was as if Zoe accepted that it was part of the off limits discussion board.

He supposed that he and Zoe were just together for the moment. He wouldn't classify it as love, heck she wouldn't either, but there was a mutual respect. Like she said, a relationship didn't have to be a long term commitment to have value. And right now their relationship added value to his life. It gave him some semblance of a life. People like he and Harold, who both technically didn't exist, John mused, didn't get to have normal lives.

He felt a flutter of excitement in his belly and continued to watch her work her way towards one rich philanthropist or another smiling the half smile that didn't reach her eyes. Though the smile didn't physically change, her eyes brightened and crinkled just a tad around the eyes, when they caught John's.

* * *

_I swear, doesn't he realize that the comb over went by the wayside along with spray on hair two decades ago? _

Although she had already obtained what she came for, she was here at the request of a client so she was stuck until she could sneak away. Since drinking herself to oblivion wasn't in the cards, Zoe decided to entertain herself by focusing on the noggin of one James White, a ridiculously rich billionaire septuagenarian; her client had left her with. If the three follicles of hair on his sweaty pate didn't distract her from wanting to jump John's bones (he looked hot in a tux), nothing could. Sipping delicately on her wine, she pretended to hang onto Mr. White's every word while imagining different toupees on his skull.

"Wah . . . wah . . . wah . . . " Mr. White sounded like the peanuts teacher. "Wah . . . wah . . . wah . . . man in a suit . . ."

That got her attention and Zoe actually looked up to find John. She flashed him a smile when she caught his eye. He lifted his head in acknowledgement but continued to keep an eye on the millionaire lothario he was supposed to be shadowing.

Despite the fact that her companion talked non-stop for the rest of the evening, all she knew about Mr. White was that he looked the best with a Julius Caesar toupee, ala George Clooney in ER, and the worst with a mullet. Of course no one, not even John could rock the mullet.

* * *

Zoe sighed with relief when she returned to her apartment later that night. As she was locking up she was immediately accosted. Arms surrounded her and the breath hit the back of her neck. John's hands were instantly on her as he pressed firmly to her back. His lips, tongue and teeth were working the back of her neck and nipping at her earlobes. Leaning her head against the door, her breathing became uneven and her heart began to pound. Without saying a word he lifted her skirt roughly. She moaned her pleasure as she turned and dropped her purse and keys carelessly on the floor.

"Jesus, I didn't think you'd ever get home." John said as he started to rub her through her underwear.

"What happened to your target?" Zoe asked just as John was walking her backwards to the couch, kissing her and running his hands over her lower back. There was no way they were going to make it to the bedroom.

"He's back at home locked up tight . . . "

Zoe got her hands under John's tux jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. As their tongues dueled for dominance, she ran her hands down the front of his tux shirt and started to unbutton it then taking it off all together tossing it on the floor. She moved her lips down his neck as she kissed and sucked lightly. With smooth efficiency, John searched and located the hidden catch and zipper on her dress. In one swift motion he made quick work of them both, quickly moving her dress down her arms and completely off. Zoe gasped and reached her arms around his neck to pull him to her. He cupped her breast through her bra, gently rolling her nipple against his palm.

Laying her on the couch, John moved his hands under her back, unclasping her bra and pulling it down her shoulders and tossed it to the side. He leaned his head down and kissed the tops of her breasts, his tongue darting out to lick her nipples, running circles around them with both fingers and tongue, taking the time to explore her. He brought her body alive with every touch of his hands and mouth.

"My turn . . ." she whispered, hands sliding down his chest, flicking each of his nipples as he sighed. She laid claim to his body, running her hands across his back, lightly marking his skin. She kissed her way down his neck to his chest, raining soft kisses over his shoulders and down to one of his nipples, licking and kissing as he had done.

"Zoe..." he sighed.

"I want to . . . touch you, John," she whispered, dropping her hands to the waist band of his pants. Completing the task of unzipping his fly, she reached inside to liberate the organ she desperately wanted to touch. Finally able to take him into her hands, she smiled as he pulsed in her hand and began the rhythmic movement.

Groaning against her breast, he wrapped his mouth and tongue around her nipple and sucked. He brought his hands down her ribs to her hip, sliding underneath her panties to cup her, rubbing her lightly. John moved with her, his mouth never leaving her breast, his fingers still rubbing her in small circles. Zoe arched her hips against his hand. Taking her hand from him, she stilled his hand. "John," she whispers. "I don't want to come yet."

John let go of her breast and moved his head up to hers, kissing her softly. "Why not?" he asked as his finger continued to move softly over her below her hand.

Zoe shut her eyes for a moment and let out another breath. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Because I want you with me when I do."

Then she realized something and frowned.

"Shit," she gasped. "We ran out of . . . "

He smiled and shook his head. He picked his pants up and reached into the pocket and produced a foil packet.

"You were a boy scout too?" Zoe said as she eagerly grabbed and tore open the packet then frantically set to work on the task at hand. John moaned in agony as she completed it.

Her hands slid to his back, and she pulled him down to her. Again, his lips took hers, tongue moving into her mouth as he slid inside of her slowly she held her hand against his chest for a moment. As she removed her hand, he slid further inside of her, and then was fully consumed. "John," Zoe whispered, as she rocked back against him.

As if he were afraid to hurt her, he held himself up with his arms, his hips right above hers he began to move quickly, each movement more demanding than the last. Their rhythmic movements continued until they both collapsed, sated, wrapped in each other's arms.

* * *

As they were catching their breath a phone rang.

"Yours or mine?" Zoe asked as they both dug into their respective piles of discarded clothing.

John got to his first. "Nope, not mine . . ."

Finally finding hers in her purse, she answered. "Zoe Morgan . . . What happened?" Zoe listened for a few minutes then. "I'll be right over."

As soon as she ended the call she walked to her bedroom, leaving John wondering, and re-emerged ten minutes later looking very un-Zoe like; jeans, sweater, and flat soled boots. "I have to go . . ."

"It's three in the morning do you need me to come with you?"

"No . . . I . . . have to go," John noticed that the normally unflappable Zoe appeared agitated.

He took her face in his hands and asked. "Zoe, what's going on?"

With a sad look on her face she just shook her head. "It's . . . I just have to take care of something . . . can you lock up when you leave?" She said giving him a soft kiss as she picked up her purse and keys and rushed out.

John stood watched her go, curious as to where she had to go at three in the morning. Although it was an unwritten rule that they not talk about work, this phone call Zoe just received did not appear to be work. It sounded personal.

* * *

Zoe arrived at small house half an hour later. Quietly she let herself in and immediately felt a thud as a little body jumped into her arms. Catching the little girl in her arms she hugged her close.

"Mommy, I'm so glad you're here!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

"Katie? Dinner . . ." Zoe called out. Katie had been staying with her for the last two days ever since she had gotten that early morning phone call. Five year old Katie and her grandparents were the closest Zoe would ever get to a family. Her own parents moved to Florida after her father was released from prison and she rarely kept in touch.

No one else knew about Zoe's close connection to Katie's family. A precaution Zoe took due to the type of work she did. Although not dangerous in most instances, there was still that potential as evidenced by her first meeting with John.

Zoe heard little feet running towards her as she finished setting the dinner table and braced herself. _Thud. _"Whoa, Katie bug, take it easy on me okay? I'm too old for you to be throwing yourself at me."

"Oh Mommy, I mean Zoe, you're silly. You're not old, at least not as old as grandma or grandpa."

_Yee-ouch!_ Zoe shook her head at the honesty of the five year old. _She called me Mommy again . . . third time in two days. _

"Do you think grandpa's going to be okay?"

"Of course he will. He's at one of the best hospitals around and the doctor that's going to do the operation is one of the best." Although Katie still looked doubtful, she nodded her head and started to eat her dinner.

"How long do I get to stay with you?"

"Until your grandpa is out of the hospital."

"Can I stay up and watch TV tonight?"

"Sure."

"Can we have hot chocolate?"

"After dinner."

"Who's J?" Katie asked.

Zoe was used to the quick changes in topic when she talked to Katie. It was normal for the five year old to jump from one subject to another. "Have you been looking at my phone again?"

At little Katie's smile, Zoe responded. "He's a friend."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Listen little girl, that is none of your business, now eat dinner."

* * *

"Finch, I found the grandparents at the hospital. I don't see the little girl though. Do they have other family that they would have left the girl with?" John flicked his ear bud so that he could hear and talk to Finch. He was at the waiting room in the Cardiology wing of New York General. Their current number's grandfather had just suffered a heart attack two days ago and was awaiting surgery.

"None that is readily apparent. I would think it is safe to say that she would be the victim in this case. I can't imagine what a five year old could do to hurt anyone."

"What happened to her parents Finch?" John asked.

"Her birth certificate lists a Jamie Wilson as the mother, father is listed as unknown. Miss Wilson died of cancer right after her daughter was born; the grandparents have full custody and by all accounts are good guardians. No criminal records whatsoever. Robert Wilson is retired FDNY and Maggie Wilson owns small dance studio. I can look a bit deeper to see if there is anything on the unknown father and into the grandparents' history. In the meantime, you may try to find out where the little girl is."

* * *

John watched her approach, carefully observing her as if it was the first time he had seen her. Her hand with nails painted a dark, crimson shade was holding a much smaller hand. Their fingers entwined. The little girl that walked beside her was beautiful with long brown hair held up in a ponytail. When the little girl smiled, she had dimples. Zoe was smiling too and it felt somewhat odd to be seeing her look so carefree.

When John set out to find his target, five year old Katie Wilson, he certainly did not expect to see his _girlfriend, lover, not wife _with the actual target looking very comfortable. She was dressed much as she was the other day when she left in the middle of the night; jeans, sweater, boots. No power suit, no stilettos, unguarded, refreshing.

John was in a quandary; should he let Zoe become aware of his presence or not? Why was she with their target? What was her connection? And why did they look so right together? There really wasn't a question. If he wanted to protect Katie from harm, he needed to be right there with them.

He followed her from a safe distance until he caught up from behind. She didn't notice him until he shortened his stride to walk next to her and spoke. "Zoe. Who's your friend?"

She paused for just a moment. "What are you doing here John?" she demanded, turning to face him.

He slightly nodded his head motioning towards Katie. Zoe didn't need to be told twice. "No . . . Katie?"

"Not if I can help it."

* * *

After putting Katie down for the night, Zoe curled up on the sofa with a cup of coffee and watched John go through the files she had given him on Katie's father. It didn't surprise John that Zoe had taken it upon herself to seek out information about a potential risk to Katie. She pulled her knees up to her chest and set her mug down on the coffee table, watching him for a minute before she spoke.

"I've gone through that entire file several times over and I just can't see what Dan Matthews has to gain by hurting Katie. He's in California, hasn't been seen since 2008. I'm not sure he even knows he's her father. His mom died a few months ago from complications after surgery. His dad's still around, but nothing unusual with his background that I could find. I've also looked through Maggie and Robert's file and they're good people John they can't be wrapped up in anything bad."

"We'll just have to keep looking . . . "

"So, what's with Katie calling you 'Mommy'?" John asked Zoe.

Zoe gave an uneasy one shoulder shrug. "She only does it when she's really excited about something or when she's really tired. She identifies me with her mom."

"You don't seem to mind it. And you're good with her," John said with a small smile as he leaned back on the couch.

"Yeah, well, she's a good kid." Zoe was uncomfortable that John had gotten a glimpse of that part of her life she kept hidden.

"You ever thought about it?"

"About what . . . being her mom?" Zoe paused, seemed to think about it then just shook her head. She had long given up the hope of ever being a mother.

"I'll never be her mother, but I'll always be here for her. I promised Jamie."

John caught the quick flash of pain in Zoe's eyes but didn't comment on it. Instead, he gently pulled her into his arms. She curled up comfortably next to him with her head in the crook of his neck.

"Jamie and I were best friends since we were kids. She found herself pushing forty, desperately wanting a child. Katie was her last chance at being a mother." _And mine_, she added silently. "I did what any friend would do, made a promise to take care of Katie. She couldn't stay with me obviously, but I see her often; often enough that she occasionally calls me 'mommy'."

"And, how does that make you feel?" John asked, curious.

"Scared the crap out of me the first time she said it." Zoe smiled at the memory of twelve month old Katie calling her 'ma-ma'. "Now, it's not so bad. I make sure she knows who Jaime was," she thought sadly of Jamie who wanted a child desperately but never got a chance to be a mother.

This was a rare occurrence for both of them. The aura of domesticity surrounding the act of sitting and talking was unsettling to both of them. But somehow, it felt right. John stretched is long frame more comfortably on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. Zoe's arms were around his waist as she nuzzled her nose in closer and sighed. John was running his fingers rhythmically through her hair lulling her to sleep.

John kissed her forehead and laid Zoe down to stretch on the couch. Finding a blanket, he draped it across her sleeping form. Zoe was an enigma, John thought as he watched her sleep. The façade she put on every day, the one she wanted people to see was so vastly different than what he had seen today and the bits and pieces he had gathered the past few months. Zoe was confounding. She threw his already set views and ideas about her into a tailspin.

John's phone vibrated interrupting his thoughts. "Yes Finch? Okay I'll get to that address. Do we know who we're looking for yet?"

Instead of waking Zoe up, he left her a note saying that he got called away. He was positive that she and Katie were safe. Knowing Zoe, John suspected that she already had her people working on finding out who the threat to Katie was.

* * *

The room smelled musty from misuse. The floor beneath Zoe was hard and cold against her cheek when she woke. As she opened her eyes, there was an eruption of pain in the back of her head, and instinctively reached her hand up to soothe it. She felt a significant sized lump at the base of her skull as well as the stickiness that she assumed was drying blood. Pushing her hands under her body, she forced herself into a kneeling position so she could get to her feet. The movement brought another eruption of pain as well as nausea. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and waited for it to pass.

Zoe Morgan, fixer of problems to many a powerful senator, CEO, or business magnate, the one who knows all the angles and always has something to trade had totally, royally, and unequivocally screwed up. She had received an odd call from one of her sources saying that Katie's father was at a certain location. Knowing John was unavailable, she decided to check it out herself.

The sound of footsteps from behind her had her turning around too fast on her heels and an explosion of pain overcame her. "Jesus Christ!" She bit out, her hands instantly grabbing the sides of her head.

"Now, Miss Morgan, thou shall not take the lord's name in vain." A man Zoe didn't recognize said. He was tall and solidly built with a mass of graying hair. What she noticed the most about him was that he had a gun and his hands were big, big enough to cause a lot of damage.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

"Slip? Why isn't Zoe back yet? It's been an hour and a half already and she won't answer her phone." Katie asked.

"Let's give her another half hour, okay short stuff?" Slip said ruffling her hair.

Zoe left Katie with Slip, the young man who helped her retrieve a police officer's gun that had been left on the subway. Although Slip looked like a thug gangbanger driving a flashy car, he was actually an enterprising student trying to work his way through law school. She trusted him to keep Katie safe.

* * *

"I want to see my granddaughter. It's not my fault that whore of a mother of hers kept her from us." The man screamed at Zoe. It became clear to Zoe that this man was Dan Matthews' father.

Anger flared in Zoe's eyes, no one called Jamie a whore! She shot forward only to be brought down by the handle of the gun catching her across her cheekbone under her eye. Pain exploded behind Zoe's eyes as she felt her cheek split open and the blood flow. The force of the blow was so strong that she tumbled back onto the floor.

"Just tell me where she is!" Michael Matthews screamed.

"Go to hell." She growled, glaring defiantly up at him as she wiped the blood from her cheek.

"I have already been there and back Miss Morgan. You don't know what it's like to watch someone you love slowly die of a broken heart. All my Ellie wanted was to see her little grand baby but her grandparents wouldn't even consider it." Matthews said staring at a picture of his dead wife on the mantle.

Seeing her chance, Zoe struggled to her feet and tried to charge past him. He caught her and in an instant they were rolling around on the floor in a battle for the gun. As soon as Matthews' surprise wore off, his adrenaline kicked in. He flipped her on her back and in a blind rage his fist came down hard over and over across her already bruised face. He kept swinging until she lay unconscious beneath him, blood leaking from her nose, cheek and mouth.

"Look what you made me do." He said, appearing disgusted with himself.

As he made his way out of the room, he stopped and kicked her in the ribs several times with his steel-toed boot, frustrated that she got the best of him.

* * *

John was concerned that he hadn't heard from Zoe.

The new number led him to the same hospital that Katie's grandfather was in, New York General Hospital.

It was mid morning and he had at least wanted her to check in to make sure that Katie was still okay. While he checked out Dr. Richard Cross a cardiologist that morning; he had also checked on Katie's grandparents. Robert had just gotten out of by-pass surgery and was reported to be doing well.

Currently at the Carnival grounds scanning for threats to the doctor's son Jeremy, he tried calling Zoe, but it rolled directly to voice mail.

"This is Zoe Morgan, please leave a message . . . "

"Zoe, it's John, I'm just checking in. Call me."

* * *

_"Zoe, why are you sad?" Jamie wrapped her arm around her best friend._

_"I'm not," Twelve year old Zoe sniffled._

_"You miss your daddy huh?" Jaime leaned in so she could get a better look at Zoe._

_Zoe nodded and began to cry. "I know what he did was wrong, but I miss him."_

_"Don't cry Zoe, please don't cry," Jamie wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. _

_"It's not fair, people think just because he did something bad that he was a bad daddy. He wasn't. I can't just stop loving him," Zoe sobbed. _

_"Nobody said you had to stop loving your daddy, Zoe."_

_"The other kids do. It sucks being at the new school. I don't have any friends and all the kids call me names."_

_"Oh Zoe, I know I'm not at your new school, but I'm your friend. I'll always be your friend," Jamie reassured her._

_Zoe smiled. "I know, friends forever right?" _

_"Right," Jamie said. "Pinky swear?" she said as she held her pinky out._

_"Pinky swear!" Zoe said and they locked pinkies, swearing they would be friends forever._

"Jamie . . ." Zoe whispered as she regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open then closed. As she took a deep breath, she gasped, not realizing how a simple necessary act could hurt so much. Curling in a fetal position on her side, Zoe wrapped her arms around her sore ribs and waited for the pain to abate. She promised Jamie to take care of Katie and by god she would do it. That animal could beat her to hell and back and she still wouldn't tell him where Katie was. Forcing her eyes open, she looked around and found that she was lying on the floor next to an antique dresser.

* * *

Zoe's apartment was dark when John arrived. He was concerned that after roughly twenty four hours, he hadn't heard anything from Zoe. Normally, that wouldn't be cause for concern, but they had Katie's safety to consider.

He checked her bedroom and the kitchen and found nothing out of place.

"John!" At the sound of his name, John looked up and saw Katie running towards him. He felt a sense of foreboding when he didn't see Zoe.

* * *

Ignoring her protesting muscles, Zoe fought to get to her feet using the dresser to pull herself up. As the room began to spin, she closed her eyes and took another painful breath to try and calm herself and make the spinning stop. A wave of nausea washed over her and she fought to suppress it. Fighting for whatever little control she could muster, she shuffled to the front of the dresser mirror.

Distressed by the image staring back at her, she stumbled back unsteadily. Her hair was a matted mass of blood, dirt and sweat. The entire right side of her face was discolored black and blue. The cut beneath her eye was red and swollen. Her skin was pale and her face was a mottled combination of dirt, bruises and dried blood. Both eyes that stared back at her were so haunted that she turned away no longer able to look at herself.

Zoe shuffled back to the spot she had awoken in. Sliding down the wall, she lay back down hugging her knees to her chest. She couldn't find a spot on her body that didn't hurt.

* * *

Katie threw herself at John, holding on tight. She was with the young black man John recognized as Slip, an associate of Zoe's.

"John! We don't know where Zoe is. She's been gone all day and she won't answer her phone."

"What do you mean she's been gone all day?" He looked at Slip for clarification.

"She got a call saying that someone knew where Katie's dad was holed up so she went to check it out."

"By herself?!" John wished for once that Zoe wasn't so damn headstrong.

"She said to call you if she didn't come back in two hours. We tried man, but you weren't picking up."

* * *

_"Zoe, wake up." Jamie said. _

_"I don't wanna. I'm too tired, everything hurts."_

_"Zoe, come on honey. You have to keep fighting him. Katie needs you to live."_

_"Katie will be fine, she has your mom and dad."_

_"Zoe Morgan! You promised me you would take care of my baby."_

_"But I'm so tired, it hurts Jamie . . . "_

_"A promise is a promise, Zoe. That's what you always said. Now fight!"_

Zoe fought against exhaustion and struggled to open her eyes again. Rolling to her side, she looked around and found herself still alone. She didn't know where Matthews had gotten to, but she was just glad he wasn't using her as a punching bag. Feeding off of her anger, she pulled herself up. Leaning against the wall and the side of the dresser she noticed the tray that had several women's beauty tools on it. Reaching down, she took the little scissors women used to cut their cuticles. Zoe was hoping it was enough.

_"For Katie . . . I won't tell, I promise."_

* * *

"Finch, I need you to put a tracer on Zoe's phone." John talked into his ear bud.

"I show her at an abandoned residence in Queens. Looks like that residence used to belong to a Michael and Elise Matthews, Dan Matthews' parents. Mrs. Matthews passed away about six months ago and Mr. Matthews has had some depression and anxiety issues since his wife passed away."

"Thanks Finch."

He ran a red light and was annoyed when he heard a police siren and saw blue lights flashing behind him. _Damn it._ They didn't have time to waste; Zoe had been missing for ten hours. He pulled over and pulled out Detective Stills' shield.

"Detective Stills," he said and cobbled up a barely plausible story. The officer apologized as John sped away.

_Jesus._ John thought. _What did those precious minutes cost Zoe_? He pushed the thought aside, picturing her face instead; wondering if he'd ever see her alive again and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

* * *

Footsteps approached as she was tucking the scissors in her hand. Keeping her eye on the doorway, her heart started to pound again, echoing in her chest. She was still facing the mirror.

"Where is my granddaughter?!" Mathews was livid as he entered the room. Practically growling, he reached out to grasp her upper arm, yanking her around to face him.

"And I told you to go to hell your bastard!" Zoe screamed as her free hand found the tray on the dresser and swung it at him, hitting him on the side of the head.

Caught off guard, Matthews released his grip and stumbled back. Tightening her grip on the tray, Zoe swung it again catching him under the eye and drawing blood.

"You bitch!" Matthews screamed as rage filled his eyes. He wiped the blood from his face and charged at her knocking her to the ground.

She caught Matthews mid flight as he was getting ready to land on top of her. She thrust the tiny scissors as hard as she could into the side of his neck. It was enough to surprise him again. As he rolled off of her, his gun came loose.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Amassing all the strength she had left in her body, Zoe rolled across the floor towards her last chance at gaining her freedom. Her adrenaline kicking into overdrive, she reached for the gun, released the safety and aimed at the body flying towards her. She pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times. All the strength draining out of her, everything faded to black.

* * *

John arrived at the Matthews' home at such a clip that the tires screeched when he brought the car to a stop. Gunshots greeted him as he exited the vehicle. His chest tightened as fear flushed through his veins. He ran through the front door, clearing the house as he went. He continued up the stairs, through the hallway to the back bedroom.

The door was open and John's gun was at the ready before entering. He wasn't sure who was there, who fired the shots he heard. Nothing could have prepared him for what he found.

Zoe lay on her back on the floor, her arms to her side, with a gun in her right hand. Her face was covered in bruises and blood. John moved towards her, scanning the room for Mathews. He found him a few feet away from Zoe face down lying in a pool of blood.

* * *

Zoe felt arms come around her and she started to fight, pushing the hands away. "No! No! Get your hands off me you bastard!" The arms tried to subdue her but she kept struggling against them. "You can't have her, I promised Jamie, I promised Jamie, I pinky-swore!" Zoe cried. She couldn't control the tears anymore, but she still fought with all she had left in her.

"Hey! Hey! Zoe, its John. You're okay, you're okay." John kept rocking her trying to calm her.

Through her screaming, she finally recognized John's voice. He found her.

"John?" She reached out blindly, relieved to feel safe; she sighed and sunk further into his chest.

"Jesus, I'm sorry Zoe," he said. "I'm so sorry." He choked the words out.

He carefully picked her up, not sure what injuries she had sustained. Zoe saw the body of Michael Matthews, dead on the floor. She turned her head away not wanting to think about what she had just done.

* * *

Everything hurt. Every bloody part of her body hurt.

That was what Zoe felt as she began to wake yet again. Blinking her eyes open, she took the time to adjust to the light coming from the bedside table.

Her mind was still fuzzy, her head was pounding. _Where am I? _Groaning, she tried one more time to open her eyes.

"Zoe?" John whispered softly.

Slowly her eyes focused and she was able to look around better. That's when her eyes found his; and remembered the details of the past day. She remembered trying to keep Katie safe, the painful beatings, the fighting, and finally death. She killed someone, yes it was self-defense, but she still took a life. At the realization, Zoe's tears came. Never in her life had she cried as much as she had in the past day. In her everyday life, tears were not an option.

What John saw in her eyes caused him concern; it doubled when he saw her tears. He saw fear, pain, confusion and . . . guilt?

He looked away from her and averted his gaze to anywhere else in the room. He felt as if he didn't have the right to see her at her weakest. And that she wouldn't want him to witness her this way. But as he saw Zoe break down in front of him, it caused a tightening in his chest. John knew how difficult it was to shoot at another human being, let alone kill them.

John got into bed with her and pulled her into his arms. She held onto John for dear life as she sobbed and shook against him. Wrapping his arms around her, he rubbed her back trying to soothe her. Without saying anything, he let Zoe take comfort in him and strength from him.

* * *

Katie was getting ready for bed when she had a thought. "John, are you going to go see Zoe tomorrow?" With Zoe at the hospital and Robert still recovering from by-pass surgery, it was up to John to make sure Katie got her things together to go home the next day.

John nodded. "After I drop you off at your grandparents; and tonight, once Slip gets back from his classes."

"How much longer will she have to stay at the hospital?"

"Another day or two."

"Can you keep a secret?" The five year old asked, looking dire, carefully waiting for his answer.

With a slight quirk of his lips, John answered. "I think I can handle it. . . "

"Okay, wait here." Katie ran into Zoe's bedroom and rushed back out with a box in her arms.

John didn't ask Katie what the box was; he just waited for her to explain. It looked similar to the box Zoe had left at his doorstep a few months ago.

"This is Zoe's special box. She showed it to me and said that I could look at it anytime I wanted. It has pictures and stuff from when she and my mom were little. I thought maybe you could take something to her at the hospital, to make her feel better."

Katie held up some pictures. He looked at the pictures that clearly showed Zoe at various ages; her first ballet recital – she was the swan princess at age eight; her first piano recital at age ten; she played Bach's Minuet in G. There were also pictures of Zoe and Jamie when Katie was born, both smiling big for the camera.

He was staring at one with Zoe holding a bundled up Katie when she was born, a proud smile on her face.

"Oh, this one is my favorites . . . " Katie held up a picture of Zoe at age twelve with another little girl, he assumed was Katie's mom. The little girls had their arms around each other, pinkies locked.

Katie then held up a small brown teddy bear. "This is Milo. Zoe's daddy gave him to her when she was three. She said he always made her feel better when she was sad or upset." Milo certainly looked well loved. One of Milo's ears looked as if it had been chewed off and was barely hanging by a thread, his brown fur was matted, and he was missing an eye.

The box was where Zoe kept the things she cared about. They weren't material things, just things that brought her joy. John thanked his lucky stars that a five year old showed him what meant most to Zoe, what really mattered deep inside.

"Hey, this is new . . . is that your last name Anderson? Oh, and you have a dog named Bear?! Sooo cool!" John snatched the piece of paper that held his bio with a picture of him with that stupid grin on his face. Where Finch had found that picture or rather, how he made that picture, John will never know.

* * *

"So . . . is today a good day . . . or a bad day?" John asked softly as he looked into her brown eyes that were filled with emotion.

Zoe smirked and flashed her half smile. _Good sign._ John thought. _She seems back to her old self._

"It's been an 'ok' day. Only half the guilt of yesterday, none of the tears," she replied in a self-deprecating manner.

They stared at each other for a few beats before John leaned over and slowly, tenderly, kissed Zoe. She easily surrendered to the kiss. It shouldn't have felt new to them given their relationship, but the sensations still made their bodies hum like nothing else they had experienced before.

When they parted, they were both breathing heavily.

"I have something for you." John whispered with a coy smirk.

Zoe wasn't sure what to make of that smirk. A regular John 'I know something you don't' smirk, she could handle. This smirk . . . she wasn't so sure.

"Well, I have been a good girl you know," she whispered back just as coyly, complete with batting eyelashes.

Giving her a lopsided smile, he reached into his jacket pocket . . .

_Oh crap, if it's small enough to fit in his jacket pocket . . . _Zoe thought in a momentary panic. _Surely not . . . _

. . . and brought out Milo.

She gasped, and like a little girl she got to her knees on the bed and reached out for her beloved bear.

"Milo . . . " Grabbing the Milo, she rubbed him on her face and sighed.

John watched Zoe and Milo, stunned at the look of complete happiness and contentment on her face.

Finally realizing that John was staring, Zoe cleared her throat with a touch of embarrassment. "How did you know?" She asked.

"Katie . . ." John replied watching for her reaction.

"You saw my box?" Zoe asked, looking unsure.

"Is that alright?"

She considered his question over for a few seconds. Then nodding with a small smile Zoe replied. "Yeah, it's fine."

"Although, I'm tempted to put a cap in Milo. . . "

"What?! Why in the hell would you do that?" Zoe was clearly back to her old self.

"A bear that can put that look on your face is not one I want around . . . "

Smiling her Zoe smile, she said. "Why John, are you jealous?"

"Should I be?"

Laughing deep in her chest, she walked on her knees on the bed towards John, grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close. She whispered in his ear as she rubbed him through his pants. "I like my lovers with both ears, both eyes, and certainly anatomically correct."

* * *

"Your girlfriend said to give you this." The nurse said as handed him a coffee cup. "She said that considering your lack of sleep last night, she wanted to make sure you stayed awake enough to get home in one piece."

The word "girlfriend" threw John for a loop and made him grind his teeth. _Don't let her hear you call her that._

The words hung in the air as John mulled them over in his head.

Then it hit him . . . what it all meant. What Zoe and John couldn't say verbally, they spoke with actions. He recalled little things he would do for her without even thinking like; leaving a coffee cup made the way she liked it by her bedside table those mornings she stayed at his loft; held her hand when she was unconscious; he was happy to let her take comfort in him and strength from him just by holding her.

John didn't realize until that moment the depth of his feelings for Zoe. The thought of her dying scared him stupid. He knew at that moment that he would do whatever he had to do to keep her safe.

He understood then too, why she brought him lunch when he worked; why she made a keepsake box for him; why she didn't ask how he and Harold knew what they knew and why she helped them without a second thought.

Zoe actually, really, cared for him.

In the days since Zoe's ordeal, they had found small ways to touch each other, a gentle arm rub, tucking her hair behind her ear, holding hands while they slept. It was their way to tell each other they cared.


End file.
